


Unleashed

by supersleepygoat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ABO, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Claiming, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Knotting, Masturbation, Mating, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 21:51:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16900479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersleepygoat/pseuds/supersleepygoat
Summary: You have hidden your Omega status from the Alpha Winchesters for years. When you slip up on taking your suppressants, your inner Omega is let off her leash and both you and Dean give into your more basic impulses. Is it nothing more than a regretful mistake? Or, can you lean to accept yourself and your feelings for the Alpha before it’s too late?





	1. Chapter 1

The doctor stands in front of you, clipboard in hand. It’s a free clinic so he doesn’t have time for idle chit chat. Frankly, that’s the way you like it. He hasn’t even asked your name or looked up from your file. Everything he needs to know about you is on the information sheet you filled out in the waiting room.

“You’re just here for a refill on your suppressants?” he asks while scribbling something down. 

“Yep,” you reply with flatness. You want this interaction to be over just as much as he does. 

“Have you had any complications or side effects from the suppressants you are currently taking?”

“Nope.”

“How long have you been on them?” He rushes the question out. He is almost finished asking all the routine questions and wants to hurry this along. 

“Since I presented,” you answer honestly. 

That catches his attention. He looks up from his clipboard for the first time since entering the room.  He looks at you with skepticism and you roll your eyes. He looks down at your chart again. He searches for where you listed your birthdate. He shakes his head. “That is a long time for an Omega to suppress her natural tendencies,” he says with judgement in his voice. 

You clench your fists and take a deep breath to stop yourself from putting this prick in his place. You need this damn prescription. You’ll do anything to get it, even if it means swallowing your disdain and taking his shit. 

You clear your throat and conjure up the politest tone you can muster. “As an Omega, my ‘natural tendencies’ get in the way of my job. Going into heat, in my line of work, is not an option,” you tell the good doctor. 

“What do you do?” he asks more out of curiosity than necessity. 

“Protect and serve.” It’s more or less the truth. 

“Still, that is a long time to be on suppressants. Have you given any thought to settling down? Maybe having some Pups?” he asks in a neutral tone but it still sounds condescending as hell. 

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I just haven’t found the right Alpha yet,” you lie through gritted teeth. You have no intention of ‘settling down’. Also, the mere thought of barring some fat and bossy Alpha’s Pups makes you nauseous. But, you say what you need to say. 

“Maybe you should give it a little more priority,” the doctor continues to push your limits. 

“Sure thing. I’ll get right on that,” you bite out. 

The old doctor sighs. “I cannot in good conscious prescribe what you are asking for. It is unhealthy for such a fertile young Omega to take suppressants so regularly. I’m sorry, my dear.” The doctor punctuates his decision by putting his prescription pad away in his lab coat pocket. 

“Unhealthy?” You’re no longer going to try and stifle your frustration. “I think what you actually meant to say was, ‘it is unacceptable for an Omega to make her own decisions.’ I understand that you got your medical degree back when they were still using mercury to treat syphilis,” you say as you stare down the wrinkled traditionalist. “But, times have changed. Omegas have rights.”

“I think you should leave,” the doctor instructs you before he too loses his composure. You gather your things and push past him as you leave the room. He stumbles slightly when you bump into him but you don’t stop. “Fat chance of that one ever finding an Alpha,” the old bastard says under his breath while throwing your file onto the counter. 

He doesn’t know you hear him. He doesn’t know that his comment cuts you deeper than you expected it would. 

You get into your car and slam the door shut behind you. You throw your purse and jacket into the passenger seat before digging into the pocket of your jeans. You pull out the unknowing doctor’s prescription pad. You realized it was a losing battle to try and get him to change his old-fashioned mind. So, you picked his pocket on your way out. 

You know it is a crime. But, you live with two large and unmated Alphas who don’t know you are an Omega. They assume you are Beta. For everyone’s sake, you need to keep that charade going. And, you need your suppressants to do that.

* * *

 

“Where the hell did you go for so long?” Dean asks as you enter the bunker’s garage. He is in there working on Baby. She always looks beautiful and runs like a dream, so you don’t know why he’s always under her hood if nothing’s wrong. 

“I went out to get some candy,” you respond. You are actually referring to the medication you got from the pharmacy with your stolen prescription pad. But as far as Dean knows, you are only referring to the bag of sugary treats you picked up while at the drugstore.  

“For four hours?” Dean asks not believing a word you say. 

You dangle the bag of goodies in front of him. It’s full of his favourites, so you know he’ll stop his line of questioning once he digs in. “Do you want your damn licorice or not?” you ask.

Dean takes the bag from you and leans against Baby. He opens the treats and offers you some. You move in to lean next to him and take one of his offerings. 

“Don’t think you can distract me with food every time you disappear without so much as leaving a note,” Dean says with his mouth full. 

“Aw, you’re worried about me! That’s cute,” you tease him. 

“You wish, princess. It’s your night to make dinner and I was getting hungry. Plain and simple.” Dean defends himself. 

“No, you were worried about me. You missed me. I bet you ran around the bunker crying because you couldn’t find me,” you continue to push him.  

“You know me so well, kid.” Dean says with a laugh as he plays along with your teasing. “Anyway, hop to it. Go make me some dinner, woman,” he says nudging your shoulder playfully. 

You laugh with him but refuse to budge. “Dinner? I just brought you dinner!” You exclaim as you point to the licorice he is still gnawing on. 

“You call this dinner?” he asks incredulously. “What about Sammy? He doesn’t even like licorice. What’s he going to eat?” 

You rush back over to your car and pull a small bag out of the back seat. Inside is a container of baby carrots. You toss it over to Dean who starts laughing and choking on his candy. “I know what my boys like,” you say with feigned pride. 

“The sad part is, he’d actually be happy you bought him this,” Dean says after he swallows. 

“That’s because Sammy knows how to be grateful,” you raise an eyebrow up at Dean. 

“Hey! I’m grateful!” he argues on behalf of himself.             

“Sure you are. Now help me with the rest of the bags,” you say as you open your trunk. When Dean walks around your car to stand next to you, he sees your trunk is full of groceries. You can’t help but laugh as his face lights up at the sight. You don’t know any other person who gets this excited over food. Just as you expected, he no longer questions you about your whereabouts this afternoon.

* * *

 

“Fuck!” Dean says as he enters your room without knocking. You had fallen asleep after you put the groceries away and are not too happy about your sudden wake up call. “What the hell are you cooking, sweetheart? It smells fucking amazing,” he says as he walks further into your room. 

You narrow your eyes at him with confusion. You fell asleep so soon after getting home, you haven’t had time to start dinner. Also, you don’t smell anything. You pull the blanket over your head in a vain attempt to ignore the crazy man and go back to sleep. But then you smell it. It’s intoxicating. Your mouth waters. You pull the blanket back down over you as you instinctively search out the source of the scent. 

“Maybe Sam got tired of waiting and started dinner without us?” you suggest as you get out of bed. But by the time you get up, Dean is gone from your doorway. The smell fades slightly. You reach over to check the time on your phone but the screen won’t turn on. Out of battery. You rush over to your dresser and check the watch you keep in your jewelry box. 

Shit. 

Because you forgot to charge your phone, the alarm that reminds you to take your suppressants never went off. You’re four hours late in taking your medication. You find your purse and pull out the meds you had gotten earlier in the day. You take a double dose in hopes that it will work faster.

A few minutes later, Dean comes stumbling back into your room. “Sam’s still in the library. He wasn’t cooking anything,” he says with confusion. 

Fear bubbles inside of you. You’re starting to realize what must have happened. Every time you forget to take your meds, your heat tires to worm its way back within a couple of hours.  

Dean starts scenting the air around him. You can tell by his more strained efforts, that your scent is fading from the air. The suppressants are working. But the damage is already done. His skin is looking clammy and his jeans are getting tighter. He’s going into rut. 

You back away from him. “Dean, are you okay?” you ask when his breathing becomes thick. 

“Y-Yeah… I – I just think my ruts a little early this time around. It’s messing with my head a little, making me scent things that aren’t really there,” he says as he stumbles away from you. 

You feel terrible. You are usually much more diligent with your suppressant schedule. You hate the fact that you may have accidentally triggered his early rut. You’re just glad you caught your heat in time before it was too late to suppress. That would have made things much worse. 

You step forward but he steps back. “I would keep my distance for now if I were you, sweetheart. When my rut hits in full swing, I don’t know if I’d be able to…I mean… I wouldn’t want to…”

“It’s okay. I get it. Rutting Alphas go after any tail they can find, even us lowly Beta,” you joke to try and ease the tension from the room. 

Dean laughs at your sad attempt at self-deprecating humour but it is not a genuine laugh. “Don’t be so negative. You and I both know that I’d want you no matter what. Rut or no rut. Beta or no Beta.” The second the words leave his lips he regrets them. You two have always been flirty but he makes sure to always keep it playful and distant. He isn’t ready for you to know the truth about how he feels about you. You aren’t ready to know either. But, his oncoming rut loosened his tongue. 

His fear subsides when you giggle at him. His skin becomes itchy with need when he hears that soft sound leave your lips. It is taking every ounce of self-control he has to not cross the room and make you his. He knows you are only a Beta. Therefore, he cannot bond with you in the same way he would be able to with an Omega. But he doesn’t want an Omega. He wants you. He may not be able to claim you, but he would have no problem marking your body in other ways to tell the world you are his. 

“Yeah, sure thing Dean.” You dismiss his words as a simple joke. You would never let yourself believe he may actually be sincere. “Do you want me to get Sam?” you ask when you notice his diminishing comfortability in your presence. 

“That’s probably a good idea,” Dean chokes out.

You slip past him and rush down the hall toward the library. As you cross paths, Dean could have sworn he caught another glimpse of that intoxicating scent. But, it was gone as quick as it came. 

He slides down to the floor and watches you run down the hall. He thinks about how much he would actually enjoy his ruts if you were his. Especially, if you his Omega. But that is nothing more than a reoccurring dream that will never come true. He would never be that lucky. He doesn’t deserve to be that happy.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

“How is he?” you ask Sam who has just emerged from Dean’s room. 

“Better. He still insists we leave for that hunt in North Platte tomorrow,” Sam says while walking with you toward the kitchen. 

“Is he up for that? It’s only a three-hour drive but I mean… can he stand to be cooped up in a car for that long. What if someone cuts him off or even looks at Baby the wrong way? He may go full Alpha and rip some poor guy’s head off.” 

Sam laughs at all of your ‘what if’ scenarios. He knows you worry about his brother more than you’d ever admit to. “I told him that the only way we’re leaving tomorrow, is if I drive and he rests the entire way.”

“And he agreed to that?” you ask with pure disbelief. 

“He doesn’t have much of a choice,” Sam says while pouring you both some coffee. 

“I could go ahead of you guys. I’ll leave tomorrow on my own.  I’ll get us a motel room, make contact with the local cops, and get set up. Then you two can drive out in a day or so once he’s more himself.”

Sam smiles softly and shakes his head. “I don’t think Dean would-”

“Over my dead body!” Dean’s voice breaks through your conversation. You both turn around to where Dean is looming in the kitchen doorway. His shoulders are squared and his brows are tensed. 

“Dude! What are you doing out here? You agreed to stay in your room!” Sam bellows at the other Alpha. 

“I got bored,” Dean replies simply while refusing to take his eyes off of you. “You’re not going on this hunt alone.” There is an undeniable finality in his voice that makes your inner Omega teeter on submission, but you don’t quite fall over that edge. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time I went out on my own. And, it won’t be the last,” you say with defiance. The Omega inside of you may want to give into the rutting Alpha’s demand. But, the woman in you wants to put up a fight. You know you can handle yourself and you refuse to be told otherwise. 

Sam puts a hand on your shoulder to stop you from further provoking the hormonal Alpha. Dean’s burning eyes shoot to where Sam is touching your skin without his permission. 

“Hey man,” Sam raises his hands in a placating manner. “You know you always get like this during your ruts. You get a little over protective. The same thing happens to me. But, we both know we can’t let those impulses run wild. It only makes things worse.”

“She’s not going anywhere alone,” Dean reiterates his stubborn assertion. 

“ _ She  _ can do what  _ she  _ wants!” you interject. Sam turns to face you and silences you with a glare. You throw your hands up in defense. You promise to stay quiet and not poke the bear. 

“No one is going anywhere alone. We’re all leaving tomorrow and-” Sam starts to say but you cut him off. 

“And I’m taking my own car,” you break your short-lived silence. 

Sam shushes you again and you roll your eyes at him. “I swear it’s like there are three bullheaded Alphas in this bunker,” Sam says under his breath. 

You can’t help but feel a twinge of pride at being considered Alpha-like. You always hated being an Omega because you don’t fit the stereotypes. You’re not weak. You’re not mild mannered. And, you’re sure as hell are not obedient. When people find out you’re an Omega, they expect you to act a certain way. But in reality, you are anything but what they would expect. You only disappoint them. That is why you started taking suppressants in the first place. No one bats an eyelash at a Beta who has a loud mouth and a strong will.

* * *

 

The next morning, you pack your duffle bag and head to the garage. Sam and Dean are fighting over who will drive. Despite Dean’s promises to rest, he refuses to hand over the keys. You sneak up behind him and snatch the keys from his hand before he even realizes you are there. When he turns around to face you, you toss the keys at Sam who grabs them and bolts into the driver’s seat. 

“Why the hell did you do that?” Dean barks at you. 

“Someone’s still a little grouchy this morning. Looks like you could use the down time.” You can’t help but tease him and push his buttons. You still feel bad for triggering his rut and putting him through this, but he’s so fun to provoke. 

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you, girly,” Dean warns you. 

“Why? What are you going to do about it?” you call his bluff. 

Dean steps forward and traps you between him and his car. You try to hide the fact that your breath is becoming shallow. You could have taken your entire pack of suppressants, but no dose can neutralize the full effect a rutting Dean Winchester has on your inner Omega. It is a sensation you learned to ignore years ago. But in moments like this, it’s impossible not to notice.

Dean’s eyes bear into you. You swallow thickly. Suddenly, Sam lays on Baby’s horn in order to break Dean’s concentration. You nearly jump out of your skin at the loud sound but Dean catches you and holds you still. His touch is oddly comforting and you feel yourself relax instantly. However, knowing Dean has that effect on you only puts you even more on edge. You refuse to be a slave to your genetics.

“Leave her alone! Come on, you’re the one that wanted to get on the road so early. So, let’s move, Dean.” Sam yells out the window to break Dean out of his trance. 

You each get into your respective cars without a word.

* * *

 

For the entire drive, you have the air conditioning turned up full blast. But, you are still sweating. You tell yourself it’s because of the humid summer air, but in the darkest corners of your mind you know the truth. That stupid Alpha and his stupid rut are messing with the effects of your suppressants. 

You turn into the first motel you see when you arrive to town. You arrive before the brothers and get two rooms. You make sure the rooms are as far away from each other as possible. 

When the boys finally arrive, you throw their keys at them and go to your own room for a cold shower. You are in the midst of drying your hair when there is a knock at your door. 

“What?” you say when you open the door. You don’t mean to be so snippy but you just wanted some alone time. 

“Well, good afternoon to you too. What’s got your panties in a twist?” Dean asks as he and Sam stand in your doorway dressed in their FBI gear. 

You roll your eyes. “Give me ten minutes,” you say as you shut the door. You don’t bother engaging with Dean’s comments because it will only set you both off. It’s easier if you just get dressed and get this hunt over with. 

Exactly ten minutes later, you exit your room in your FBI outfit. The tight skirt goes down to your knees but the slit up the side gives you more mobility if you have to start running or fighting. 

Dean’s dark eyes watch as you approach the car. Your hips sway on their own accord. He doesn’t think you even realize it, but every time you wear that skirt you have an extra bounce of confidence in your step. Dean tries to adjust himself in his pants as nonchalantly as possible. 

“Give Sammy your keys,” Dean orders you. “He’s going to the morgue while you and I head to the police station to confiscate their files.” 

“Why don’t I go to the morgue. Sam can go with you to the police station.” You don’t mean to be difficult but you don’t think you should be alone with Dean. 

“You hate the morgue. You always get nauseous at the sterile smell,” Dean reminds you. “Besides, the local cops are always more willing to comply when you’re there to ask nicely and bat your lashes.”

Normally, you would be offended by the fact you have to use your natural assets to get what you need from the cops. But you’ve been a hunter a long time. You know how to play the game. You do what you need to do to finish the hunt as quickly as possible, before more people get hurt. 

“Fine,” you relent. You toss Sam your keys and he tosses you the keys to Baby. 

“No way!” Dean interjects. “She’s not driving my car!” he shouts to Sam. His brother merely shrugs and slips into your car and drives away. Dean is your problem now. 

You skip around to the driver’s seat of Baby. The prospect of finally being able to drive her perks up your mood. You’ve never driven her before and you’re giddy with excitement. 

You reach for the door handle when Dean interrupts you. “You even think about it and I’ll throw you in the trunk,” Dean threatens you. 

“You need to rest,” you tell him. 

“I rested the whole way here and it nearly killed me. You’re not driving my car. Move it,” Dean says as he snatches the keys from you.

“Hey! That’s not fair!” you know you are whining but you can’t stop yourself. You’ve been dying to get behind her wheel since the moment you saw her. Dean gets into the car, blatantly ignoring you. You walk around to the passenger side and slip in next to him. “You suck.” 

Dean turns on his music and cranks the volume so high the seats vibrate. “What?” he shouts over the music. “I can’t hear you!” he laughs, very pleased with himself. 

When you arrive at the station, you all but jump out of the car. Whenever Dean is in rut he turns into such an asshole. He’s usually annoying. But, it’s so much worse when his raging hormones mess with his ability to use his upstairs brain. 

Dean follows close behind as you enter the police station. All eyes are on you two. You assume it’s not every day they have federal visitors, especially when one is an Alpha in rut. It instantly put everyone on alert. 

You approach the girl behind the front desk and ask her where the sheriff’s office is. She answers you but refuses to take her eyes off of Dean. She’s Omega. Unclaimed. You look back at Dean to make sure he’s okay and doesn’t do anything stupid. To your surprise, he isn’t looking at the woman. He is scanning the room with prying eyes. You don’t know what he’s looking at, but you would not want to be on the receiving end of that glare. You tug on his arm to catch his attention. You get him to follow you to the sheriff’s office but he continues to stare down every officer you pass. He’s making this so much worse. 

You knock on the sheriff’s door and he shouts for you to come in. He is younger than you expected but just as clueless as every other sheriff in every other town you hunt in. 

He tells you about the missing persons. All different ages. All different genders. All different genetics. He hasn’t been able to find any common link. You request a copy of his files. He and his officers may not know what to look for. 

Since there are a lot of missing people, there are a lot of boxes of evidence to carry out to the car. 

“Who do you think we should talk to first? Have you come across any witnesses who maybe weren’t taken seriously because they had a weird or unusual story to tell?” you ask one of the officers who is helping you carry the boxes out. 

“No one specific,” the officer replies in a shy tone. “If you’re asking me, these people aren’t missing. I think they just skipped town. There’s no evidence of foul play. It wouldn’t be the first-time people got bored with small town living and went searching for something different.”

“I get that,” you acknowledge the officer’s theory. Unfortunately, in your line of work, things usually aren’t that simple. “I’ll look into it, Officer…” you trail off to try and read his badge. 

“Brooks. Officer Brooks. At your service,” he winks at you as he throws the last box into Baby’s trunk. 

You extend your hand out and are about to introduce yourself, but Dean cuts in front of you. He puts his back to you and puffs his chest out to the officer. “Thanks for the help, rookie. But, I’ll take it from here.”

“Dean!” you slap his shoulder but he refuses to back down. 

As a Beta, Brooks knows better than to challenge an Alpha. He leaves after giving Dean a curt nod. 

“Why do you have to be so rude!” you yell at Dean once you’re inside the car. 

“Uh, you’re welcome!” Dean says as he turns over the engine. “That guy was all over you,” the disgust in Dean voice is clear as day. 

“I don’t know what planet you’re from but introducing yourself hardly counts as being ‘all over’ someone,” you inform him. 

“Please. You can’t be that naive. He was practically fucking you with his eyes. They all were,” Dean says through gritted teeth. 

You can’t help but laugh out loud. His hormones have officially driven him insane. “You’re so paranoid. No one was doing anything. He was just being nice. And you, Mr. Macho-Alpha, were just being a dick. Besides, isn’t that why you made me tag along in the first place, to sweet talk the officers into spilling the beans?”

Dean glares at you but you pay him no mind. You simply turn your attention out the window. In a little while, his rut will pass and he’ll laugh at the situation. 

You’re stopped at a red light. You catch Dean’s attention as you kick off your heels. Dean’s gaze drifts up your leg to where your skirt has risen up your thighs as you sit. A lump forms in his throat as you squirm in your seat and inadvertently push up your skirt even higher. Dean grips the steering wheel to stop himself from reaching out to you. Images of him lunging across the seat and tearing open your skirt flash through his mind. He can hear the sound of the fabric ripping under his fingers. He can hear you squeal with surprise and beg him to take your panties as well. He can feel himself lean forward to taste you. Just as his tongue darts out to quench the hunger that is eating him alive, by eating you alive, the sound of a car horn blaring behind him breaks him out of his daydream. 

“Dean? The light’s green,” you inform the oblivious driver who seems too lost in his own mind to pay attention to the road. “You sure you don’t want me to drive?” you ask not wanting to start a fight but in actual fear for his safety. 

“I got it,” he barks at you before speeding away with white knuckles and tightening pants. 

When Dean pulls into the motel parking lot, you’re thankful you made it here in one piece. He refused to slow down the entire rest of the way. 

You get out of the car and look over to Dean. You want to ask him what’s wrong or what he wants to do next. Instead, he is already slamming his motel door shut behind him before you can get a word out. 

You decide to give him his space. You pull one of the boxes out the car and carry it to your room. While Dean cools down from whatever set him off, you may as well get cracking on the case. 

* * *

 

Dean slams the door shut behind him. Usually whenever his rut is about to hit, Dean takes off. He gets a crappy motel room nearby the bunker and finds a willing Omega and sometimes a Beta to help him through it. But most importantly, he stays as far away from you as possible. You’re Beta. He doesn’t know why you affect him so much but you do. You make his skin sticky and mind fuzzy. By tomorrow his rut will be over. He just needs to keep his distance for the next twenty-four hours, so you don’t catch on to him. 

Until then, he has to get himself through the night without busting a nut. He staggers over to the washroom and finds the complimentary lotion the motel provides. He loosens his tie and throws off his jacket. He sits on the edge of the tub and undoes his pants. 

He ran out of the car before you could notice, but he is already painfully hard. The zipper of his cotton pants left a faint imprint on his aching cock from where he was strained against it. Dean frees himself fully and rocks himself into his hand. His mind can’t decide between envisioning his hand as your hand, your mouth, or your pussy. As he tugs himself harder, his fantasies alternate until he settles on the memory of watching your skirt ride up. 

He imagines your delicate fingers pulling the skirt higher to give him a better view. The faster he pumps himself, the higher your skirt goes. He is so lost in his own mind he doesn’t bother stifling his grunts and moans. He begs you for more. You take your fingers away from your skirt and slip them into the dark coloured panties he imagines you are wearing. 

He can actually hear you call his name. You’re calling to him and the sound of your light voice causes his wrist work overtime. That is all it takes to send him over the edge. He spills himself onto his own hand and stomach. His knot aches and begs to burst but with nothing to latch onto, it goes unsatisfied. 

Dean holds himself up on the tub while he catches his breath. Thinking of you always does the trick but lately it’s not enough. He cleans himself up in the shower. Despite everything he’d just done, he still opts for a cold shower. 

When he emerges from the washroom, his stomach drops. You are lying on his bed, waiting for him.

Did you hear him? Do you know what he just did to himself? Do you know it was all because of you? Would you mind? Dean shakes his head to rid himself of that last thought. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. 

“Finally!” you exclaim when you see Dean. “I brought you this to help you relax,” you say as you get up off the bed and hand him a brand-new bottle of whiskey you must have gotten at the liquor store across the street. 

“Thanks,” Deans says with a strangled breath as he grips his towel tighter around his waist. 

“Shit, sorry. I’ll leave and let you get changed.” You turn around to leave and Dean wishes there was a way to beg you to stay that wouldn’t involve crossing a line. “Sam called by the way. He’s bringing dinner but won’t be back for another hour,” you say without turning around. “I’ll be in my room going over the case, if you need me.”

When the door shuts behind you, Dean flops down onto his bed. He groans with frustration and renewed arousal when he notices the smell of your perfume has lingered on his pillow. He can’t escape you. And, he is losing his determination to want to.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Sam brought you dinner hours ago but you have been too engrossed in the case to eat any of it. The entire sidewall of your motel room is covered in official documents and sticky notes. It maps out any possible connection between the victims. After following the paper trail, the only commonality you’ve been able to find between the victims is in their bank statements. Each missing person made a cash withdrawal from their bank account of exactly $1637.73 a few days before they vanished. It may be nothing more than a weird coincidence. You won’t know more until Sam hacks into their financials and gets more information. And, that can wait until tomorrow. 

You walk away from the mess you made and land face first on your bed. You are beat. You’re about to fall asleep when your phone goes off. You groan at the disturbance but get up anyway. You know that alarm means it’s time to take your meds. 

You stagger over to your duffle bag and riffle through it. At first, your search is lazy and half-hearted. But, when you can’t find your packet of pills, your search becomes more frantic. You dump all the contents onto the floor. It’s not there. You check the washroom. It’s not there. You run out of your room in nothing but pajama pants and a sports bar to search your car. It’s not fucking there. 

In your mind, you go over what you did before you left the bunker. You distinctly remember pulling out your pills and putting them on your bathroom counter so you wouldn’t forget them. But, did you actually pack them? You cannot remember physically putting them into your bag.

You pull out your phone and search for the nearest pharmacy. This is such a small town that the only pharmacy within a forty-mile radius closed at 4:00pm. 

You tell yourself not to panic. That doesn’t help. Your breath starts to quicken and your fingers tremble as you clutch your phone. You’re stranded. There is nothing you can do. You’re heat will hit in full force in a matter of hours. There is no escaping it. You will be exposed. There will be no denying what you are once the cramps and hunger start. 

You contemplate making a run for it. You try to figure out if you can make it back to the bunker before it’s too late and you have to pull over. You think of the alternative. Staying here, out in the open, where any random Alpha passing by can scent you is not an option. Also, you can’t bear the thought of the Winchesters finding out you have been lying to them for years.

You throw all your things back into your bag, throw on a shirt, and rush out the door. You load up your car and take a deep breath before walking over to the Winchesters’ room. It’s late. So, you hope they are too tired to put up much of a fight. 

You knock on their door softly. A drowsy Sam opens the door rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He lowers the gun he picked up just in case you were a monster on the other side. You peer over his shoulder and sigh with relief. Dean is asleep, which means it will be easier to slip away. He can always tell when you’re hiding something and never rests until you spill your guts. 

“Sam,” you whisper so you don’t wake Dean. “I need to go home for a few days. There is something I need to take care of. I’ll come back and help finish the hunt when I’m done. But I have to go, tonight.” You know you’re being cryptic but you don’t want to overtly lie to him. 

“What’s wrong? Let me get Dean and we’ll-”

“No!” you grip his upper arm to stop him from going to wake Dean. “Please, just tell Dean I’ll be back soon and he shouldn’t freak out,” you plead with Sam. “Nothing is wrong. It’s just something I need to deal with on my own.”

“Fine. But, he’s going to be pissed. You owe me one.” Sam relents. 

You smile widely and reach up to bring him in for a hug. He smells different, stronger. Shit. You pull away. It’s already started. 

Sam looks confused but you clear your throat. You hand him the keys to your motel room to cover up your weird behaviour. “I found something about the victims that may help. Everything is laid out in my room and easy to find. But, you should start with their financials,” you inform the other hunter. You offer a quick goodbye before scurrying to your car. 

You are only halfway home when the cramps start. They eat away at your lower belly. You grip the steering wheel as tight as possible in a vain attempt to transfer your pain. You drive a little faster. Through your blurring vision, you see the road sign that signifies you are now within Lebanon city limits. Your sigh of relief is cut short when you feel your skin become sticky with sweat. 

You pull up to the bunker and crawl out of your car. You don’t have the energy to close your car door or grab your things. Hell, you barely have the energy to walk. You finally open the heavy bunker door and all but stumble down the stairs. Your plan was to make it to your bedroom and find your suppressants. But, you’re too late. Your growing fever blackens your vision. You only make it to the library before you collapse onto the hardwood floor. The ground is cool beneath you but does nothing to ease your overheated skin. 

Your heat has been refused for so long that it is coming back with a vengeance. Your tired limbs kick off your pants. But, you pass out before you can expend the energy to take off the rest of your restrictive clothing.

* * *

 

Dean wakes up with a clear mind. It’s been a few days since his rut unexpectedly started and it’s finally gone. He can finally focus on the case. First however, he should go apologize to you. He knows you have thick skin but he still feels bad for being weird yesterday. It was like he was a young Alpha again, unable to control when and where his knot demands attention. 

“You feeling better?” Sam asks his brother. Dean’s Alpha scent has become less strong which signals the end of his rut. And, just in time too. Sam didn’t want to tell a rutting Dean that you ran off in the middle of the night. It should be easier now, maybe. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Dean doesn’t like having his younger brother worry about him. “Did she come up with anything last night? Y/N locked herself away with those files all night, has she said she found any link between the victims?” Dean asks as he pours himself a hearty helping of coffee. 

“Yeah, she did actually,” Sam replies. “She told me to look into their financials. They all made the same oddly specific cash withdrawal before they disappeared. Plus, it was all from the same bank in the center of town. I figured we could go to that bank and ask around. Then, check out the surrounding shops,” Sam suggests.

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll go tell Y/N that we’ll be rolling in fifteen minutes,” Dean says as he walks toward the door. 

“She won’t be there,” Sam interjects. 

Dean turns around to face his brother with furrowed brows. “She didn’t go to check the bank on her own, did she?” he asks trying to mask the worry in his voice. 

“No, she’s fine… I think,” Sam says, only making things worse for Dean.

“What do you mean  _ you think? _ ” Dean asks as his voice lowers a decuple or two.

“She came by in the middle of the night saying she needed to go home. She said she’ll be back soon and everything is fine. But she blew out of here like a bat out of hell,” Sam informs his brother. 

“You just let her go?” Dean shouts.

“You know her better than anyone, Dean! I couldn’t have stopped her even if I wanted to. Sometimes she needs to deal with things on her own. It’s not the first time she’s taken a few days to herself,” Sam justifies his behaviour. 

“She’s never taken off in the middle of a case. She wouldn’t leave while some creep is still hurting people, not unless something was really wrong,” Dean says as he grabs his keys off the side table. 

“Where are you going?” Sam shouts to his brother as Dean storms out of the room. 

“Where do you think?” Dean replies as he gets into his car. “Stay here and keep an eye on things. We’ll be back soon, both of us.”

“Just leave her be, Dean! She doesn’t need you to save her from whatever danger you concocted in your own mind. If she need or wanted our help, she would have asked!” Sam says over the roar of Baby’s engine. 

“We’ll be back soon, Sammy,” Dean repeats before peeling out of the parking lot. 

It’s a three-hour drive home. Dean makes it there in a little over two hours. His stomach drops when he sees your car parked in front of the bunker’s entrance. The door is open and all your stuff is still inside. 

He rushes inside the bunker. The second the door swings open, a strong scent invades every inch of him. He grips the railing for stability as he takes in that sweet smell. It is something he has only caught a glimpse of once before. It is the same scent that captivated him right before his rut hit. He can’t decide if the mouth-watering scent is more sweet or savory. Before he realizes it, he is down the stairs and seeking out the source of the scent that is rejuvenating his skin.

It is not until he rounds the corner of the library, does he remember why he was there in the first place. The air is kicked out of his lungs when he sees you sprawled out on the floor. You are half naked and soaked with sweat. If it wasn’t for the soft whining noise that is escaping your lips, Dean would have thought you were dead. 

He rushes to your side. Your skin is burning to the touch. As he moves the hair out of your face, he realizes he has found it. You are the source of the electrifying scent he hasn’t been able to get out of his head for days. 

You’re an Omega, _his_ Omega. 

Your eyes flutter open at his gentle touch. 

“Alpha?” you beg. You’re not sure if he is a cruel hallucination your fever invented or the real thing. You reach out and trace your finger along his jaw to make sure he’s real. 

Dean twitches under your touch. You have never called him by his title before. You have never sounded so desperate. He ignores his tightening pants as he scoops you up and off the ground. 

You cry out at the sudden movement. Your aching muscles rebel against activity of any kind. You cling to Dean as he carries you down the hall. You burry your head into the crook of his neck and breathe deeply. That’s when you scent him properly for the first time. He smells like pine and gunpowder. You also sense a faint hint of apple that is so sweet you can’t stop yourself from tasting him. You let your tongue trace along his pulse point. Your fevered brain is making you bolder than you would ever be under normal circumstances. Dean growls as you start nipping at his ear, actually growls. You feel it rumble in his chest and you pull him in closer to get more of that sensation. 

You’re starting to forget why you have always kept your distance from Alphas. This feels right. You used to think Alphas only bring trouble. But right now, your past reservations fade away as you let yourself melt into his strong hold. 

Dean pushes open your bedroom door with his foot. He lays you on the bed. You try to pull him down with you but he easily escapes your weakened grasp. 

“I’m just going to go run you a cold bath. I’ll be right back,” the Alpha assures you. 

“That’s not what I need,” you say as you pull yourself up to your knees in front of him and grip onto his shirt to keep him still. 

The certainty in your voice makes Dean freeze in place. You lean forward and nuzzle against him. A soft moan escapes your lips as you take in more of his scent. 

“Omega,” Dean grumbles as his head lulls forward and he buries his nose in your hair. 

You pull away to look him in the eye. He expects you to run or push him away from you. Instead, you curl your fingers around the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss, your first kiss. Dean’s surprise by your gesture is short lived. He soon grips onto your ribs and pulls you impossibly closer. The kiss is a desperate mess of teeth and tongue. You taste almost as good as you smell. Dean can’t help himself from wrapping his arms around you and demanding entrance into your mouth. 

You bite down on his intruding tongue in a desperate attempt to get more of his taste inside of you. Dean moans at the sensation of your sharp teeth. Not only does it feel amazing, but he is also turned on by the fact that your desperation is causing you to be rough with him. He always imagined you would be a little spitfire in bed. But now, he knows for certain that he won’t have to hold back with you. You can take all he wants to give you. 

As you each continue to steal the breath of the other, you are struggling to get your t-shirt off. It is clinging to your sweaty skin. Your inability to free yourself is starting to make you panic. You hate feeling confined and all you want is to feel Dean’s skin against yours. Dean comes to your aid. He grabs the seam of your shirt and rips it open before throwing it behind him. Your chest heaves as you catch your rattled breaths. Your fingers claw at the next barrier to your freedom, your bra. Dean is more hesitant to help you remove that. He wants to, really fucking bad, but doesn’t want to overstep. 

“Please Alpha,” you beg as you turn in his hold to give him access to the back clasp. You rub your ass against him to spur him on. But, Dean doesn’t reach for the clasp. He wraps his arms around you and tears your flimsy bra away in one swift motion. You bite your lip and watch as the muscles in his arms destroy your clothing and give you your freedom. 

Dean palms your breasts as he pulls your back up against his chest. You realize that he is still completely clothed. He is a stark contrast to your almost completely exposed state. Dean starts running wet kisses from your jaw to your shoulder. That sensation alone causes you to forget about your unbalanced levels of exposure. His fingers squeeze harder into your breasts and you grind back against him. 

“You want this, Omega?” Dean asks you with a firm tone. His hips are involuntarily rubbing against your panty covered ass. It may kill him, but he will stop if you want him to. He can sense you want this just as bad as him but he has to make sure. 

“Please, Alpha. Need it. Give me everything,” you beg as your eyes start to water from need. 

Dean turns your head and captures your lips in one last searing kiss before placing a hand on the back of your neck. He breaks the kiss by pushing you forward so you are bent over in front of him. 

“Present, Omega,” the Alpha demands. You instantly regain your stability and push yourself up onto your hands and knees. You arch your back and stick out your ass on command. You don’t know where this obedience is coming from. But, every part of you is desperate to bend to his will. You have never thought of yourself as the submissive type. But then again, you’ve never let you inner Omega off her leash like this before. 

Dean rips your panties down your legs. He runs a hand up the back of your thigh until he meets the curve of your ass. He grips one cheek with such force you expect to find finger shaped bruises in the morning. You arch your back impossibly further to expose yourself even more. 

“Good little Omega,” Dean says pleased with your behaviour. His praise sends an unfamiliar tingle down to your core. “You ever been with an Alpha?” he asks. The possessive hint in his voice turns you on more than you expected. “You ever taken a knot?”

“N-No. Only want yours,” you confess. You’ve only ever been with Beta, and once another Omega. You never had any interest in Alphas. You never let them get close enough to find out what you are. But now that your secret is exposed, you can’t think of any other Alpha you would rather have help you through your heat. You’re not blind, you’ve always been attracted to the eldest Winchester brother. But he was an Alpha, so you kept your distance. 

Dean runs his fingers between your thighs. He gathers up the slick that is soaking your core. He cleans your taste off his fingers and groans. You look over your shoulder. An involuntary whine escapes your lips when you see him lapping at his fingers while palming himself through his jeans. 

While Dean is preoccupied, you roll onto your back to watch him. You slip a hand between your legs to give yourself what Dean is too distracted to give you. Your soft whimpers bring Dean back to reality. He sees you splayed out and pleasuring yourself for him. Within seconds, he is shedding his upper layers. You watch his frantic fingers rip away at his wretched clothing. As more of his skin is exposed, your fingers delve a little deeper into your desperate cunt. 

Dean takes off his belt and lunges forward. He forces your hands above your head and away from their task. “So close,” you whine as your release slips way. 

He binds your wrists with his belt as he offers you a coy smile. “No,” he says as he lowers his head to take one of your hardened nipples between his teeth. “You’re only allowed to cum around my cock tonight,” he informs you. 

He pulls himself up and you miss his weight over you. You pull at your bindings as he rids himself of his pants and underwear in in one fluid motion. Your eyes widen as his cock springs free. You’ve always heard Alphas were big, but actually seeing it sends a slight twinge of fear through you. He will no doubt tear you in half. You instinctively try to squirm away. Dean places a placating hand on your knee and you instantly relax. 

“I’ve got you, Omega,” he reassures you. At his words, your open your knees a little wider and he smiles down at you. 

He wants nothing more than to spend the entire night building you up.  He wants to tease you until you beg him to push you over the edge. But, your heat is stronger than he has ever seen in an Omega before. Teasing can wait. Right now, he needs to take care of the precious Omega beneath him. 

He runs a single finger through your folds. He circles your clit before pushing one thick digit inside your soaked hole. He eases you open by adding another finger, and then another. Even with only his fingers inside of you, you feel completely filled. Your walls start to clench around him. He pulls his fingers out of you and you whimper at the loss. 

“I said, you’re only allowed to cum on my cock tonight. That was just to get you ready,” he reminds you as he sucks his fingers clean. 

You’re sick of begging him. You lift your knees and raise your bound wrists above our head to show the Alpha you are ready for him. He takes his cue and hovers in over you. 

His tip nudges at your entrance and pushes inside. He is barley in a few inches and it’s more than you have ever taken before. The burning you feel from being stretched to your limits by his thickness is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. He started off by entering you slowly. But, the Alpha inside of Dean takes over once it hears the pleasurable moans escape your throat. Dean snaps his hips forward in one sharp movement. He is filling you to the hilt and you cry out at the sudden invasion. 

He settles inside of you and lets you adjust as he places reassuring love bites to your neck and chest. 

“Move, Alpha. Need you to move,” you squeal as his dick pokes at your cervix in a borderline painful way. But it is the kind of pain that you would gladly seek out.

Dean braces himself over you as he begins with drawn out thrusts. He is moving slow enough that you can feel every vein and every ridge drag against your walls. You want nothing more than to digs your nails into him and feel his back muscles ripple with each insertion. But, your hands are still bound. Dean must have wanted the same thing because he reaches up and undoes the belt from around your wrists. 

The second you are freed, you start clawing at his chest and pulling him in closer. Your enthusiasm ignites Dean’s more primal side. He pushes himself inside of you at a damn near violent pace. You soon start to flutter around him and groan at the ever-tightening coil in your lower stomach.

Your noises make Dean push into you harder. He wants to get you there. He wants to feel you quake for him. 

“Come on, baby girl. Cum for me!” he growls at you. 

You obey. 

A wave of ecstasy rushes through you. You scream out as he fucks you through it. It is a kind of intensity you have never known. He rocks into you as you squeeze around him like a vice. Your growing tightness almost sends him over his own edge. But, he pulls out of you before you can push him over. He isn’t finished with you yet. 

Before you can protest his loss, he is flipping you onto your stomach and lifting up your hips. He fills you from behind, with no warning this time. But you are ready for him, you may always be ready for him. This new angle means he is hitting you in places you didn’t know could be reached. 

He grips your hips and starts a brutal pace. Your cheek drags along the sheets beneath you as he tugs and pulls at you. His unrelenting thrusts make you incapable of holding yourself back. It is not until he lands two hard slaps over the globe of your ass, do you come undone again. 

“I knew you’d fucking like that. You’re a dirty little Omega, aren’t you?” he grunts as you convulse around him. 

“Y-Yes, more please Alpha,” you can’t believe the desperation in your own voice. And, you sure as hell don’t recognize your insatiable words. Who have you become? Is this who you have always been?

Instead of spanking you like you asked for, Dean reaches down and pulls you up by your hair. You are now flush up against him but his movements do not falter for a second. 

His teeth find the crook of your neck and you instinctively arch yourself to give him more access. 

“Gunna fill you up. Gunna knot you. You’re fucking mine,” the Alpha growls in between thrusts. Dean moves before you even have time to think straight. His teeth are biting down into your shoulder as he forces his thick knot inside of you. The second his knot pops, the dual sensation of being locked together and being claimed by his bite, sends you reeling again. You can feel his cum firing into your waiting womb and your quivering walls milk him for everything he has to give. 

His hips continue with lazy thrusts as he tries to fuck you both through it, despite his knot keeping him in place. He lays you both down on your side and his teeth finally dislodge from your shoulder. He laps up the blood that trickles down your back. You coo at him in a sleepy haze as he continues to clean your new mark with his gentle tongue. 

He shushes you and tells you to rest. 

You obey.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Your heat is lasting longer than it normally should. It has been suppressed for so many years that it refuses to go down without a fight. Your overactive hormones have made you damn near insatiable, and Dean is more than happy to oblige. 

He spends most of his nights exploring your body and finding new ways to make you sing for him. He spends his days forcing you to rest and eat. While you sleep, he calls Sam for updates on the case and reassures him that you are fine. He hasn’t told his brother what you are, what you two are doing, or about the life changing claim he laid to body. He will explain it all later, once he himself figures out what he’s going to do. 

Dean had fallen asleep in the large chair in the library after his phone call with Sam. He is jolted awake by the sudden sensation of having your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. You somehow slipped his boxers out of the way and are now lapping at his leaking slit. 

Your hair is thrown over your shoulder and exposing his claim. That sight alone makes Dean’s cock twitch in your mouth. You look up at him through your lashes and smile around him before sinking all the way down his shaft. Even once he hits the back of your throat you push a little further to take in more of your Alpha. You’re desperate to make him feel good. You let your tongue put pressure against his thickest vein as your hand slips down to massage his sack. 

“Fuck!” he exclaims as you work him over with more fervor. “Gunna cum if you don’t stop that,” Dean warns you. He assumes you would want to stop so he can fill your greedy pussy again. But, you keep going. “You want that don’t you, Omega? You want me to cum down your throat and fill your belly?” Dean continues. 

You don’t stop to reply. You simply let your hollowing cheeks be answer enough. 

Within minutes, Dean’s balls are tightening in your hand and his hips are bucking up into your throat. His seed shoots into your mouth and you take it all. You swallow around him so you don’t waste a drop. But he always cums like a horse and you can’t stop some from dripping out the corners of your mouth. When you pull off of him, you lick your lips to collect your escaping prize. 

He watches you with bewilderment through his hooded lashes. You’re always so responsive and ready. He thanks anyone who is listening that you are finally his.

* * *

 

Within a few days, your heat starts to fade. As it does, your hormone induced blinders are slowly lifted. You still crave your Alpha’s touch but you’re no longer guided by an insatiable hunger to please and be pleased. 

You are in bed tangled up in a heap of limbs. Dean is holding you from behind and snoring softly in your ear. During the peak of your heat, that sound soothed you. Now, it kind of annoys you. You detangle yourself once you feel his knot subside. You climb out of your now shared bed and tiptoe over to the washroom. 

You’re afraid to look. You know it’s there. You remember the moment he gave it to you. It is a vivid memory that will never leave you, and you’re not entirely sure you want it to. But, you take a deep breath and finally look at yourself in the mirror.

There it is. The mark on your shoulder that binds you to Dean, an Alpha, forever. You never wanted to be claimed. All your life you told yourself that mating with an Alpha will only cause trouble. He’ll be bossy, possessive, and try to fill you with Pups. You’re a hunter. You can’t be someone’s Omega. 

You don’t know who that person was you became during your heat. You can’t let her out again. This never should have happened. He never should have claimed you. He should have gotten you through your heat with his knot, not his teeth. He shouldn’t have bonded your soul to his, and you shouldn’t have let him. You shouldn’t have liked it. 

You rummage through the bathroom cabinet looking for your suppressants. 

“They’re not there,” Dean says in a sleepy haze as he stumbles into the bathroom doorway. 

“Where the hell are they?” you bite your question at Dean. 

“You don’t need them anymore. Why the hell were you on them in the first place? Why the hell would you hide this from me? We could have…” Dean trails off before he can admit to being disappointed at all the lost time you two could have spent together. He clears his throat before continuing. “Claimed Omegas shouldn’t use suppressants anyway. It’s not healthy and can mess with your -,” Dean starts to inform you but you cut him off.

“I swear to god, if you say that it will mess with my  _ fertility _ , I will lose my shit,” you warn Dean. You can’t help but scoff at him. You’ve been mated for only a few days and he is already making decisions for you.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” he asks with all sleepiness gone from his voice. 

“You can’t just make huge decisions like that for me! You may have claimed me but you sure as hell don’t own me! If I want to go back on suppressants, I will!” you state your truth. 

“You’re not in this alone anymore. Isn’t that a decision we should make together?” Dean asks trying to reign in his frustration at your sudden shift in mood. He always likes bickering with you but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy exploring to your more submissive side. You were much more agreeable. 

“Like you claiming me was a decision we made together?” you ask as you place a hand on your hip. 

“What the hell are you trying to say, Omega?” Dean’s anger rises at your insinuation that he forced this on you. 

“It never should have happened!” you state the obvious. The words feel wrong on your tongue the second you say it out loud. The hurt that washes over his features breaks your heart and makes your claiming mark itch. You want nothing more than to take back your words. But a lifetime of believing you would be a terrible mate and an even worse Omega, stops you from easing his pain. 

He deserves an Omega who can give him what you can’t. You’ve never been the affectionate and loving type. You pride yourself on your independence. The thought of losing that scares you. It’s better for the both of you if you just push him away now.   

“You haven’t once called me by my name this entire time. Ever since you found me on the library floor, since you found out what I am, you keep calling me ‘Omega’,” you don’t know if he even realizes that he was doing it. “You call me by my title and I fall in line. I lose my identity. I lose who I am when I’m too wrapped up in simply being your Omega. I’m more than that.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Dean asks you with a solemn voice. Your Alpha is begging you with his eyes to understand that he cares about you far beyond your genetics. He always has. He has loved you long before he knew you were an Omega. He knows who you are and what you stand for. And, he loves it all. But, you’re too unsure and insecure to see it. You think you’re better off alone and Dean doesn’t know how to make you see otherwise. 

Dean nods his head. You’re not ready. He knows that now. He reaches past you and opens one of the drawers under the bathroom sink. He pulls out your packet of suppressants and tosses them at you before leaving you alone in the washroom.

* * *

 

Shortly after your confrontation, Dean leaves the bunker. Your heat is over, you don’t need him anymore. He climbs into Baby and drives back to Sam. 

You pack your things, all of your things, and pile into your car. You don’t plan on coming back to the bunker. You will go help Sam finish up this case but then you need to leave. You need to keep your distance from the Winchesters, from Dean. You can’t stay here knowing your presence will hurt Dean. 

When you get back to the motel room you ditched only a few days prior, everything feels different. You know nothing in the room has changed but at the same time, you feel different. 

You knock on Winchester’s door and take a deep breath. There is an edible tension in the room as you and Dean listen to Sam catch you up on what he found. You are doing everything you can to keep your focus on the younger brother. But, you can feel Dean’s eyes burn into you. He refuses to speak to you or acknowledge you, he only stares. 

Sam is smart. He knows what happened. Whether Dean told him when he got back or he can smell it on you, you’re not sure. But, he knows now too. The scar on your neck is unavoidable and undeniable. You thought about covering it up with makeup or a scarf but you just couldn’t do it. Sam is smart though, he knows not to bring it up unless you do first. 

He tells you that across the street from the bank in which each victim made their withdrawal, is a hoodoo shop. “I can’t go back there. The owner now thinks I’m FBI and refused to talk or show me her security footage without a warrant. One of you two needs to go in there posing as a customer. We need to find out what the victims could have bought for all that money,” Sam finishes. 

“I’ll go,” you offer. You have always taken a special interest in witches. You find them fascinating. You know Dean hates them and probably won’t be able to keep his cool if he went undercover into her lair. 

“Like hell you will,” Dean finally speaks to you. 

You level him with a glare but he refuses to back down. This is exactly why didn’t want him to claim you. Now he thinks he can stop you from doing your job. 

“Dean, let her do it,” Sam tries to defuse the situation. 

“I’m going with you,” Dean states. 

“All the victims were alone. If we want to keep to the pattern, I need to go by myself.” You stand a little straighter to punctuate your words. 

Dean audibly grinds his teeth. “Fine, but I’ll be right outside.”

* * *

 

You walk into the shop expecting to see an amateur display of fake relics that tourists usually find ‘cute’. But to your surprise, all of the artifacts look authentic and are protected with the proper wardings. This seems to be the real deal. A lump forms in your throat out of the fear that you may be out of your league. 

Out on the street, Dean can feel something shift inside of him. He knows it’s not his own fear. It is faint, as if he is sensing someone else’s anxiety. 

You step up to the counter and ring the bell. An old woman comes out from the back. A wide smile spreads across her lips when she sees you. It is a warm smile that puts you at ease. 

“What brings you here, sugar?” she greets as she steps up to the counter and leans toward you. 

“My friend, Annie Cooper, told me about you. She said you may be able to help me.” Annie is one of the latest missing persons. You’re hoping that her name will trigger the witch into accepting you. You’re hoping she will perceive you as another easy victim. You’re not sure what the victims came here for, so you speak with as much vagueness as possible. 

“Annie referred you to  _ me _ ?” the old woman says with a slight giggle. She looks you over. You can tell she is trying to read you. She must have found her answer. “I could sense it the second you walked into my shop. You and Annie have the same issue, don’t you?” 

You nod. You’re not sure what else to say. You also don’t know what you just admitted to. 

“Come on then, sweetie,” she gestures for you to follow her into the back. “I’m sure Annie mentioned that this is a cash only arrangement,” the old woman says as she pulls out a chair for you. 

“Yes, she did,” you say as you open your purse and pull out $1637.73 in exact change. You hand it over, hoping your presumption is correct. 

“My, my… you are prepared, aren’t you?” she sings as she sees all the money is accounted for. 

“What exactly is going to happen? Annie was a little vague with the details,” you lie.

The witch tucks the money into a wooden box before responding. “Changing your genetic structure is no easy feat. The secret lies within magic, not science. So, it may be a little uncomfortable. But just like all my other clients, you will be happy with the results.”

“Changing my genetics? You mean, you can actually turn me into something either than an Omega?” you cannot stifle the curiosity and wonderment in your voice. 

“That is what you came here for, isn’t it huntress?” she asks with a sly smile. 

You realize too late that you have been made. You try to push up and out of your chair and reach for your gun but she stops you with a flick of her wrist. You are suddenly unable to move. 

“You know what I am,” it’s not a question. 

“Just as you know what I am,” the old witch responds. “You hunters give off a distinctive aurora. You and that  _ FBI agent  _ who came in a few days ago. Us witches need to know how to sniff you killers out,” she informs you.

You can’t help but laugh. “You think  _ we  _ are the killers? What about all those missing people who vanished after visiting your little dungeon of fun?” you ask as you inspect the tacky black and red decor. 

“Missing? Who’s missing? Every single one of my customers got what they came for. They each left here happier than a pig in shit. It’s not my fault if they each skipped town after finally getting the freedom they always wanted,” the witch defends herself.

“Freedom?” you ask incredulously. 

“I did not lie to you earlier. I can and I do change people’s genetic structure to that in which they desire. Beta to Alpha. Alpha to Beta. So on and so forth.” The woman moves in closer to you. “And even, Omega to Beta.” 

Your eyes shoot up to hers as she draws out her last words. “You mean, you could-”

“It’s trickier with a mated Omega but still possible,” she interrupts you. “I can give you what you want, what you’ve always wanted,” she offers while staring into you.

“What’s the catch?” you ask knowing magic like this always has a price.

“There is no catch,” she waves a hand at you. “I’m in it for the money. This is merely a side project that helps fund my other, more ambitious, activities. If people are willing to pay, I am willing to serve. And, my customers are always so excited that they skip town to build a new life for themselves, the life they always wanted.” She spreads her sales pitch on thick. 

You catch yourself being enticed by her offer. And one week ago, you may have even considered it. But, things are different now. 

“No!” you snap yourself out of your own mind. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you try in vain to wiggle out of her magical grasp. 

You don’t believe a word she’s saying. Even if she could change you, you’re not sure you want to be Beta anymore. You’re not even sure you want to take your suppressants and pass as Beta anymore. You may not be the mate he deserves, but you are still Dean’s Omega. And, there is no going back. The thought of losing that bond permanently scares you more than you thought it would. You may need time and space to process this new relationship but you don’t want it to dissolve beyond repair. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as the realization hits you. You actually want to be Dean’s Omega. It only took the threat of losing him for you to realize it, but you want him to be your Alpha. Goddamn it.  

“No?” the witch interrupts your rumination. She flicks your hair off your neck to expose your fresh claim. “Is this what’s stopping you? Well… don’t worry, sugar!” she exclaims with a wicked grin. “I can get rid of that for you,” she cackles as she covers your claim with the palm of her hand. 

Your skin starts to burn. You scream in pain and thrash to escape but you are still bound by her magic and cannot move. You beg her to stop and leave you alone. You don’t want this. You don’t want her to erase your bond. But, there is nothing you can do to get yourself free. So, you do the one thing you pray will work, you call out for your Alpha.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Dean has left his post out front of the witch’s shop. He left Sam to man the front entrance while he went to check the back alley. There is an uncomfortable twinge gnawing at his lower stomach the longer you stay in the shop alone. He knows you can handle yourself. But, that doesn’t quiet the Alpha inside of him that strives to protect his Omega. You may not want him or his help, but it goes against his very nature to not worry about you. 

He hovers around the back entrance. He wills himself to not break the door down and find you. He doesn’t want to blow your cover. But, an unfamiliar tightening in his chest is keeping him on edge. He knows something is wrong. He can feel it. It is no longer just his inner Alpha that is pulling him forward, it is as if a piece of is soul is hanging on for dear life. He can feel it slipping away. 

His resolve breaks. 

He is reaching for the door handle when a blood curdling scream stops him in his tracks. The sound sets his skin on fire and he focuses his pupils. The scream is followed by a desperate cry of Dean’s name. Dean’s mind clears of every thought except one:

_ Omega _ . 

The Alpha in Dean unleashes a drive within him he has never known. He all but rips the door off its hinges to get to you. By the time he finds the back room in which you are being kept, you are slumped over on the floor. You are alone and your attacker seems to have vanished but Dean doesn’t care. He has found you. Everything else can wait. 

He rushes to your side and scoops you up off the ground. You are unconscious and utterly limp in his arms. Dean’s stomach drops in fear. He holds you tighter. It is not until he can feel the faint breeze of your heated breath on his neck does he relax, if only slightly. 

Dean looks down at you with hope. Your cheeks are stained with drying tears. In all the time he has known you, you have only ever cried once. That day, he vowed never to let that happen again. He may have failed in that effort, but his stubbornness assures him that you will be fine. Whatever happened, he will help get you through it, if you’ll let him. 

He adjusts his grip on you. The movement causes your head to lull to the side. The entirety of your neck is now exposed to Dean. He sees that a blistering burn now replaces where his claim once was. An anger bubbles within him as he holds you impossibly closer to his chest. He holds you as if it is not too late to protect you from the witch’s attack. That bitch tried to violate your bond. He will stop at nothing until she pays for what she’s done. 

Dean leans his head forward and buries his nose in your hair. He takes comfort in your sweet Omega scent. It is the only thing keeping him calm. It is the only thing preventing him from going on an all-out rampage. 

Dean hears a commotion coming from the front of the shop. He lifts his head and narrow his eyes with laser focus. It is the unmistakable sound of his brother grunting in pain. With reluctance, Dean lays you down on the nearest couch before rushing to his brother’s aid. 

Dean storms through the door that leads to the main shop area. He leaps across the counter to where the witch is using her magic to crush Sam’s insides. 

“You hunters need to learn to leave well enough alone!” she shouts at Sam as he gasps for breath. 

Dean doesn’t waste a second. He grabs the witch from behind and snaps her neck as if it were a measly twig. He body crumbles to the floor in a boneless heap. Dean pulls out his gun. He lands three shots of witch killing bullets into the her skull just to make sure she stays down. 

“T-That’s overkill, don’t you think?” Sam quips as he regains his ability to breathe. 

Dean doesn’t respond to his brother. He merely checks to make sure Sammy will survive on his own before rushing back to where he left you.

* * *

 

Dean waits for you to wake up. He paces around your motel room. He can’t seem to stay in one position for very long. He moves from sitting by your bedside, to hovering over you, to making sure you are still breathing. He then starts thumbing through the spell book that has been taunting him. Sam had taken the witch’s grimoire. There are a number of spells that indicate she had the ability to change a person’s genetics.

A fear gnaws at Dean. 

He has scented you, so he knows you are still an Omega. But that reassurance doesn’t do much to quell his creeping dread. What if he had been too late and the witch changed you on a cellular level? What if you were no longer an Omega? What would that mean for the two of you? 

But there is one thing that is eating away at Dean above all else, his uncertainty. He doesn’t know if you actually wanted the witch to succeed. He doesn’t know if you actually wanted her to erase your bond and change you into a real Beta. 

He tries pushing those thoughts away. He remembers your scream. He remembers the fear and pain in your cry for help as the witch burned away his claim. A part of him knows you would never do that to him. But the longer you stay unconscious, the longer his insecurities have time to take hold. 

Your heavy eyelids protest against the light in the room. You notice you are back at the motel. But the present moment slips away as the memories of what the witch did to you flood your awareness. 

With fearful fingers, you check your neck to make sure Dean’s claim is still there. You don’t feel your usually soft skin. Nor do you feel the raised scar of Dean’s bite. You feel a large bandage covering where his claim used to be. Your breath starts to quicken and you sit straight up. Your hands tremble and your eyes water. You begin trying to pry the bandage off of you with clumsy and frantic efforts. You refuse to believe it is true. It can’t be gone. You have to see it to believe it. 

“Hey, hey, Y/N! Stop,” Dean’s voice soothes you as he climbs into the bed next to you. He takes your hands away from your neck and just holds them in his. He doesn’t want you to disturb your fresh wound. But also, he needs to feel you. He needs the comfort your touch provides. Little does he know, you need the same thing. 

“She- she,” your sobs prevent you speaking clearly. 

“I know. She’s gone. You’re safe,” Dean reassures you as he pulls you in closer. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimper into his chest. “I – I swear I didn’t… I never would have…”

Dean holds you tighter as a silent gesture. It tells you that you don’t need to explain. He knows. He can tell by your panic that you would never intentionally hurt him or try to sever your bond. He knows it was all the witch’s doing. He hates seeing you in such a frenzy. But he’d be lying if he said your reaction didn’t help silence his insecurities. 

He holds you in this position until you fall asleep again. He stays holding you all through the night. If morning breaks and you push him away, then he wants this one last night of just holding you. One more night of you being his. He will need this memory as something to cling to. 

* * *

 

The next morning, you awaken in Dean’s arms. You assume he is asleep, so you take a stolen moment to nuzzle into his chest. You bask in the comfort he is giving you. The witch may have broken your bond and he may no longer be your Alpha, but you are still inexplicably calmed by his embrace. 

Dean’s arms tighten around you and you look up to see he is already awake. Your cheeks flush under his stare but neither of you makes an effort to move. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat the only thing you are capable of saying. Out of shame, you cast your eyes away from his. This is all your fault. You hurt him. You let some evil bitch take your bond. You were too caught up in your own head to put up a proper fight. She offered you everything you thought you always wanted. But in your hesitation, she took the one thing that you didn’t know you always needed: Dean, your Alpha. 

Dean hooks his finger under your chin and forces your gaze back onto his. “I never want to hear you apologize for what she did to you.” There is a firmness in Dean’s voice you have only heard once or twice before. 

“But she – I let her break us. I didn’t know-” 

“Do we feel broken to you?” he asks. You don’t respond. “Y/N, our bond is more than a simple scar on your neck. You are mine. I am yours. But, only if you still want it.”

You look up him. You know that it is Dean speaking to you and not the Alpha. So, you answer him, not your Omega. “Always,” you whisper. 

The choice seems so simple now. You’re tired of fighting against it. There is no denying who you are. The fear of losing Dean overshadowed your fear of being an Omega. When Dean holds you, it is not an Alpha holding his claim. It is pure warmth. You spent your life running from stereotypes but now you’re willing to give Dean a chance. You’re willing to give yourself a chance. This is your opportunity to find happiness in the one place you always denied yourself access to. You won’t let it slip away again. You’ll never let him slip away again. 

Once you relinquish your fear, you can unleash a kind of love you didn’t know you were capable of.  

Dean leans forward and grazes his lips over yours. Your tongue peaks out to draw him closer. He captures your lips in a kiss that is not rushed or pushy. He takes his time relearning your taste. He commits you to memory, not out of fear of losing you but because he wants to remember the moment you became truly his. You have finally let him in. 

You shift your position over him so you are straddling his lap. You each make drawn out efforts to rid one another of your clothing. In the process, Dean can’t help but cherish every inch of your newly exposed skin. He lets you rock against him until your wetness has coated his length in a sheen layer of slick. He grips your bare hips and helps you lower yourself onto him. As you sink down, you rest your forehead onto his and breathe him in. You take in the scent of your Alpha. 

He bottoms out in your unprepared pussy and you whine at the stretch. He rubs down over your clit to even out the balance between the pain and pleasure. But, you don’t need him to. The slight pain of his thickness reassures you that this is real, he is yours. 

That thought alone ignites your fire. 

You rock your hips and ride him with purpose. You throw your head back as you feel yourself become completely fulfilled. His mouth takes advantage of this position and finds your nipples. He can’t make up his mind for which one he will lavish first. He ultimately decides to alternate between the two. Tasting. Tugging. Biting. You never know if he will leave wet and sloppy kisses or harsh and bruising nips. His quick movements leave you unable to anticipate where he will be next.  His large hands hold your lower back and force you to arch further into him. 

He lets you maintain your slow pace. He is fully satisfied with abusing your hardened buds with his teeth and tongue. He slides one hand down your body and once again starts rubbing small circles onto your clit. He wants to feel you cum around him. 

He works you over, making sure not one inch of your body is left untouched or unloved. The collage of sensations causes you to rock your hips with more intensity until you are all but bouncing on his thick Alpha cock. His mouth has yet to relent control over your breasts, so with each bounce his teeth tug and pull at you. It is a never-ending cycle of him pushing you further and you dragging him up to that edge with you. 

You run your fingers through his hair and give it a slight pull as you feel yourself getting close. His grunts of pleasure are fueling you forward. It is getting harder and harder to keep up your pace. Your leg muscles are screaming at you but you refuse to quit until the chase is over. You need to feel your Alpha’s knot. You need Dean to empty himself inside of you. 

Dean can feel your thighs quiver around his. He starts bucking his hips up to meet you thrust for thrust. You let him take over as he spears into you at his own hungry rhythm. 

His knot forces its way into your tight hole only seconds before it bursts. You scream out in unabashed gratification. The pureness of the pleasure that is coursing through you, gives you a new-found sense of clarity. You to throw the weight of your upper body onto Dean as your orgasm ripples through you. You bury your nose into the scent emanating off his neck. You can’t hold yourself back as you bear your teeth and sink them into Dean’s sweaty shoulder. 

Dean releases an inhuman growl. He pulls your hair out of the way and lays a new claiming bite to your opposite shoulder. As you feel his seed pump into you, you bite down harder. You finally release him after you’re sure you have left a lasting scar, and he does the same. You each clean up the other’s marks with a mixture of kitten kisses and small nips. 

Dean’s knot is still buried inside of you, locking you two together. You are still straddling his lap as he rests against the headboard. No one says a word. 

You rest your head on his shoulder and admire the inflamed mark you had just left on his skin. You feel his finger trace along the fresh wound he had just given you as well. You hum a contented sigh before nuzzling into you Alpha further. 

He has always been yours. And, you have always been his. The marks you now both bear are merely a symbol of that bond. But, you now know the true source of your connection runs much deeper. No magic can change who you are, who you were always meant to be. You share a love that cannot be tamed once it is unleashed. There is no erasing that bond. And, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

  
  



	6. The Epilogue

You rush into the bunker with an unshakable excitement propelling you forward. You and Sam had been away on a hunt for almost an entire week. And, it feels like a week too long. You nearly broke every speed limit driving back home. Sam made you pull over so he could take over driving. He figured you had a better chance of getting home in one piece if he was behind the wheel.

You burst through the door to the bunker and wait. Then, you hear it. The sound that has been your driving force for the last three years. 

“Mommy!” the excited little girl with bright green eyes squeals at you. She speeds down the hall toward you. You crouch down and hold your arms out, ready for impact. Her frantic little legs make her slip and slide as her socks fail to gain proper traction on the floors. 

The second she is in your arms, you vow never to let her go again. 

Her smile rounds out her chubby little cheeks and your chest tightens in indescribable way. The day she was born, you stopped asking yourself ‘who have I become?’ That question is irrelevant. Now, the only question worth asking is ‘who can I become for her?’ 

It is no secret that Pups were never a part of your plan. You were a hunter. But bonding with Dean showed you that that is not all you are. You could be so much more than that. You could be so much happier if you gave yourself the chance to be. 

You realized that letting love into your life didn’t make you any less of a fighter. If anything, it made you stronger. It gives you something to fight for. 

It didn’t happen right away. It took a few years for you to admit to yourself that you wanted Pups, Dean’s Pups. Now, as your perky little Pup embraces you with pure warmth and adoration, you wonder why you denied yourself of this kind of happiness for so long.

It took you awhile to find a balance between being a mother and being a hunter. Your Pup comes first, and always will. But you have not given up your crusade on helping others. After all, you’re technically a Winchester now. You can’t give up the family business. Although the reunion is always so sweet, it is getting harder and harder to leave your Pup behind. These hunts and the time away from her are taking their toll. 

You cling to your little girl and breathe in her scent. It is a perfect mix of both you and Dean. She is yours. She is your priority. 

A few moments later, Dean comes around the corner. You can tell he has spent the entire week trying, and failing, to keep up with the little ball of energy. A look of relief and contentment washes over Dean when he sees his Pup secured in your arms. He will never grow tired of seeing you two together. Dean’s little family fills him with such an unimaginable warmth that he can’t do anything but stare. He can’t believe you two are really his. He never thought he would deserve such a happy ending. But at the same time, he feels like this is only the beginning. 

“Aren’t you going to say hi, Daddy?” the girl says as she wraps her arms around you even tighter.

“Yeah, aren’t you going to say hi,  _ Daddy _ ?” you repeat with a wicked smile. You can never resist the urge to torment him. 

Dean raises an eyebrow up at you. He is now fully broken out of his own thoughts. You have to bite your cheek to keep yourself from giggling. Your daughter is completely oblivious, but you can see Dean’s eyes darken at your teasing words. 

Before Dean can open his mouth, Sam comes in through the door behind you. You were in such a hurry to get inside, you left him alone in the garage with all the bags. He is weighed down from carrying all the luggage. But, your little monster cannot help but spring from your arms to jump on her uncle’s back. 

“Uncle Sammy!” she exclaims with pure joys as he tackles the large man. He instantly drops the bags and holds her up so she doesn’t tumble off him. It is long way down for her. 

Her love for her uncle always makes you and Dean smile. She admires him. Sometimes, you wonder if she’s more excited for her Uncle Sammy’s return than your own. But you know deep down she is too innocent to play favourites. She has more than enough love to share. 

“Jeez, kid! I think you grew while we were gone! I can barely hold you up!” Sam feigns effort, when in reality he can lift her with one hand. “You guys can take care of the bags from here. I’ll handle the shrimp,” Sam says to you and Dean while your daughter practically hangs off of him. 

You hear her erupt into a fit of giggles as they turn the corner. You want nothing more than to follow that infectious sound but two strong arms hold you in place. 

You lean back against Dean and let his scent invade you. You missed this. You missed him. You turn in his hold and waste no time before capturing his lips in a heated kiss. He grips the back of your thighs and hoists you up until your legs secure themselves around his waist. He backs you up against the wall and continues to leave purposeful kisses on your lips and jaw. 

He pulls away. You can’t help but admire your Alpha as he takes you in. He looks at you with a perfect mix of hunger and respect. You’ll never know how you got so lucky. 

His eyes trail down to your neck. On one side, there is the faded scar from where that witch burned you all those years ago. On the other side, Dean sees the second claiming mark he gave you. It still holds strong today. It outshines every other scar and mark on your body. 

You can tell he is lost in his own thoughts. You reach up to trace the pads of your fingers across the claim you laid on him, that always gets his attention. 

His eyes snap up to yours. He once again steals every bit of air from your lungs in a desperate kiss. 

“Ew!” the disgust in your daughter’s voice breaks you and Dean apart. You push away from each other like teenagers who have just been caught by their parents. 

“Don’t ‘ew’ at us, kid!” Dean feigns offense. Your daughter sticks her tongue out at her father before taking off back down the hall. She knows that always starts a game of chase, her favourite. Dean runs off after her, vowing to unleash the tickle monster when he catches her. 

You have been with Dean for a long time now. But, it still surprises you to see him so goofy around her. You grew up with the fear that an Alpha would be cold and distant from his Omega and his Pups. You feared that Alphas only care about breeding. You never thought they had any interest in helping to take care of the Pup once it’s born. 

But from the second you became a family, all your fears proved to be baseless. Dean was ever the devoted father and Alpha you could have dreamed of. You each take turns going on hunts, giving the other a break when needed. Also, Uncle Sammy takes over every so often so you and Dean can get away together. But on the whole, you both prefer being here with her. You both are never happier than when your family is all under one roof. 

You look down and notice you are now left with all the luggage. You sigh to yourself as you haul the duffle bags over your shoulder. 

You ditch the gear in the laundry room before making your way to the kitchen. On your journey, you reach down to pick up the toys that are spread on the ground. There is always someone running around these halls, so it would be an inevitable tripping hazard. 

As you near the kitchen, you hear your daughter squealing with laughter as she begs her dad to stop tickling her. A warm smile spreads across your face as you walk in to find Dean relenting and the Pup squirming out of his grasp. She runs over to you for cover and you lift her off the ground. 

“I warned you, munchkin!” Dean says as he walks over to help Sam make lunch for everyone.

“I don’t like it when Daddy unleashes the tickle monster,” your daughter informs you. But the toothy grin she is sporting tells you that she is lying to save face. She actually does like it. It is a game those two play regularly. It is a constant battle of wills. Your Pup pretends to hate the game and Dean makes it his mission to break down her grumpy façade. Anyone who knows her, knows she loves playing with her father and laughing with him, even though she’d never admit it. She’s stubborn, just like her mother.  

  
  



End file.
